


Cross-purposes

by direpenguins



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, F/F, takes place sometime before Steven's Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 12:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10719333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/direpenguins/pseuds/direpenguins
Summary: Yellow was reminded, for a moment, of the Diamond that in old days had inspired awe and dread without even raising her voice above a whisper, who could send battalions of Rubies and Agates scampering in panic and adoration with just a lifted eyebrow, a twitch of a finger. It shook her to realize how much she longed to see that Blue, the one that had been swallowed up by this cloudy, watered-down version in front of her.





	Cross-purposes

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for writing this instead of other things I should be working on; but this ship is the exact sort of garbage that sings to my trash soul.

Yellow stood with one hand gripping the back of her chair. If she could see Blue’s face beneath that cowl, she would have scrutinized it for signs of irony or mockery—any indication that she had been speaking in metaphor, or even making some sort of tasteless joke. In the past, occasional flashes of humor from Blue had tended more to the subtle and biting; but Pink had been known to get her to join in a foolish prank or two, usually at Yellow’s expense.

“You want to go to _Earth_ ,” Yellow repeated.

Blue had arrived, unannounced, wanting to speak to Yellow, and yet seemed unwilling to do it face to face. She was drifting aimlessly across the floor like a fog. Long fingers worried at the loose sleeves of her shroud. “Last time we spoke,” she said, “you reminded me about that geoweapon. You said it was due to emerge soon.”

Yellow had hoped that the image of that wretched planet crumbling into space dust might please Blue, as it did her. “What about it?”

“I’ve just been thinking that... it would be good to see the place one last time.” She had wandered over to the clear segmented glass wall, and now seemed to be staring out into space. “We won’t get another chance, once the Earth is gone.”

“The place.” Yellow’s grip on the chair threatened to crack the finish. “You don’t mean the place where she was shattered?”

No response. Blue traced meaningless patterns on the glass with one finger. Yellow crossed the floor in three quick strides and yanked her cowl away from her face.

Blue still did not turn toward Yellow, but stubbornly continued to stare at some vague point outside the glass. Her eyes shone raw within deep indigo shadows. She had been crying copiously, and recently—perhaps right before she came in. The lighting in the chamber gave her a greenish tinge that made her look submerged.

“We never did recover her shards,” Blue murmured. “They’re still there, somewhere—a part of that planet. I can’t help thinking that... if we spoke to her, in that place... some part of her would hear.”

“ _What_ part of her? Her dust, suspended in the atmosphere?”

Blue winced as if she had been struck. Yellow swallowed a roiling current of unfocused anger—at herself, at Blue, at this entire conversation. The thought of Pink somehow being conscious—spread out over that hateful planet or mingling with the monstrous cluster at its core—made her clench her hands into fists at her sides.

“Blue,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even, “you’re only torturing yourself with this pointless fixation of yours. It’s _sick_.”

Blue scowled at the glass. “What’s _sick_ is carrying on as if nothing happened. As if she never existed at all. I should have known it was a mistake to talk to you about this.”

Yellow’s anger flared to a bright point behind her gem. She pictured Blue traveling alone to that planet to fling herself on the dirt like some low organic thing, weeping over Pink’s nonexistent shards until the crust crumbled beneath her.

“You are not to even _think_ of setting foot on that miserable rock,” she thundered. “Is that clear?”

Blue’s eyes now turned toward her, glittering and hard. “Pardon _me_ , My Diamond.” Each word fell like an icicle. “Perhaps you’ve confused me with one of your Peridots, that you believe you can command where I go and what I think.”

That cold fury reminded Yellow, for a moment, of the Diamond that in old days had inspired awe and dread without even raising her voice above a whisper, who could send battalions of Rubies and Agates scampering in panic and adoration with just a lifted eyebrow, a twitch of a finger. Fickle and constant as an ocean, patient and relentless as a glacier. It shook her to realize how much she longed to see that Blue, the one that had been swallowed up by this cloudy, watered-down version in front of her.

Blue moved as if to storm out, but Yellow placed one arm against the glass to block her. “All right then, _My Diamond_ ,” Yellow said, softer. “You want to give the commands? Command me. Tell me what I have to do to make you put these morbid ideas out of your mind.”

Yellow expected a retort of some kind. Instead, Blue was quiet. Liquid oxygen eyes glared at her for a moment before sliding back toward space; but there seemed to be a challenge in them that was hesitant to resolve itself into words. Intrigued, she tipped Blue’s chin toward her and held her gaze.

“Touch me,” Blue whispered then. “The way _she_ used to.”

Yellow felt the gravity shift beneath her.

 

It was foolish and useless, something Pink had apparently picked up from observing the crude organics that infested the surface of her planet and populated her sad little zoo. Those tiny, mushy things always seemed to be groping and flailing and rolling over each other. But having its unseemliness pointed out to her did nothing to dissuade Pink. In the end, she always did what she wanted.

“See, this is why you can’t get along with Blue,” she had told Yellow, laughing that bright laugh of hers. “She knows how to appreciate things that are pointless.”

 

Lowering one hand, Yellow ran her fingers slowly through the trailing loop of blue-white hair. Her knuckles brushed the hard edges of Blue’s gem. Blue’s face remained impassive; but as gloved fingers ran up the side of her neck and buried themselves in her hair, she sighed and leaned into the touch ever so slightly, eyes closed.

Yellow traced the hollows under Blue’s eyes, the line of her cheeks, the curve of her lips. Leaning in, she hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was Pink’s face Blue was seeing in her mind’s eye.

Then Blue’s eyes fluttered open, and Yellow now felt like the one who was submerged, drowned.

Inexorably, like asteroids, they collided. Clinging to Blue’s waist, Yellow found herself stumbling backward into her chair, which had been on the other side of the floor. She did not recall having taken a step. Perhaps the room had reordered itself around them. Her gem seemed to burn beneath the cool fingertips resting on it.

“Blue,” she breathed, and felt moisture slide over the bridge of her nose and down her cheeks.

She opened her eyes. Blue’s tear-streaked face hovered just above hers.

“I’m sorry,” Blue whispered, agonized. She caressed Yellow’s face with nervous tenderness, as if the tears there were Yellow’s instead of her own. “I’m sorry... I just...”

Before Yellow could say anything, Blue got to her feet, threw her cowl up, and swept out the door, not even waiting for the insipid Pearl scurrying at her heels.

Yellow remained motionless for a good while, gazing toward where the echoes of Blue’s footsteps had faded out. Finally, carefully, she stood up. With one brutal shove, she tore the seat from its moorings and sent it crashing to the floor.

She heard a tiny, startled squawk—her Pearl, cowering in a far corner. The sound had a strangely sobering effect. She chided herself for displaying such irrational behavior, unbecoming of a Diamond.

Allowing herself one last exhaled breath, she bent over and righted the seat, letting it snap back into place on its gravity hinge. _There’s no point getting worked up over such things_ , she told herself, as she sat back down to resume inspecting mining survey results. _No point at all_.


End file.
